Sede Vacante

The light is on but no one is home.

Archive for Music

The Meaning of Torture


I know what torture is. It’s a long-ass ride home in horrendous traffic, in a cab where the driver insists on playing his Air Supply CD, in an eternal loop.

Here I Am. Even the Nights are Better. Two Less Lonely People in the World. Now and Forever. Making Love Out of Nothing at All. Every Woman in the World. All Out of Love. They should have written one last mega-hit entitled “Please Kill Me Now Before I Gouge My Ears Out With A Car Door Lock Knob.”

It’s utter anguish. Not because Air Supply sucks. On the contrary, I know of few people who can resist singing along after overcoming the initial wave of nausea.

It’s just that after a few bars of “Every Woman in the World”, the faces of all my exes have flashed before my eyes and I realize just how much I still love them all so…

I panic. I pull out my ipod. Must escape. I put the buds in my ears and hit “shuffle”.

I get Clair Marlo’s “Till They Take My Love Away”.

Like I said… I know what torture is.

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Music and Memories


There is a very primal thing about music. It’s like the perfume of an old lover; just one whiff brings back a flood of memories. There are songs that are strongly associated with many key events in my youth. To hear them again brings me back almost against my will to where I was back then. And as with many scenes from my past, I suspect they are more vivid now being colored by the lenses tinted with nostalgia and the strong conviction that things were truer and more romantic back then.

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Vietnamese rock and roll and transcendence


Chilling in Ho Chi Minh

It’s Sunday and we’re spending our only rest day at home just jamming with the locals. Khoa and his brother Minh are over at our apartment and they brought a guitar. And we have two dozen beers in the fridge. What do you get when you add beer to a steel strung guitar? I don’t really know, but we’re having a lot of fun. =) The post-nuclear holocaust theme of our apartment goes well with everything. Try to imagine the illegitimate child of the beatnik movement and Mad Max.

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